//------------------------------//
// Entry Four 
// Story: The Hermit's Tale 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Entry Four

It's been a long day so far, and it's only really just gotten started. I'm very tired: so much is going on at once that I haven't been able to even run the enchantment as often as I hoped. Which is unfortunate, because I've been thinking a lot about the situation lately, and understand there's more that I need to address than simply the issues with Gymbr.
Right now is the only moment of peace I've had in... eighty, ninety hours? It must be closer to ninety. I have a meeting with Freya and Brynhild later in the week – which of course means that idiot Scrivener Blooms and Twilight Sparkle will be joining us as well – and Antares will be with them. I've scheduled a time to address the issues of him wanting to live and work in Valhalla, and to talk about his relationship with Prestige Luster.
I dislike the idea of interfering with so-called 'romance.' As long as it doesn't affect productivity, I could care less what other ponies involve themselves with, but in this scenario it's interfering with the regulations of Heaven. For all intents and purposes, Antares Mīrus is a mortal: I cannot simply grant special exception for him because he happens to be in love with a new Valkyrie, and he is also the son of Brynhild. How many other ponies long for loves that have passed on, after all?
Precedents must be set and adhered to. Rules and structure should be obeyed and followed, not distorted and broken. Otherwise, we'll be left with the same chaos that runs rampant in Ginnungagap. I have to ensure all mortals of all species are treated equally if they reside within the Vale or these golden halls, just as I have to weigh positives and negatives logically, not emotionally.
People tell me I always look so cold and distant when I make these arguments. I'm glad that I do: I'd rather have them think I don't care than let them understand how much it hurts to do rational mathematics like this. I wonder how Freya survived doing this for so many years... quantifying, stacking odds, and at the end of the day being the one to say 'save these three and let that one die.'
I'm sorry. My thoughts are... heavier right now. I'm stressed, and tired, and I feel defensive and... so much needs to be measured and dealt with. Aria and Excelsior are both helping out as much as possible, and Terra is... doing her very best to be useful... but in the end all responsibility falls on my shoulders to get these things done, and I'm the only person most gods and diplomats will deign to meet with, as so-called King of Valhalla.
Gymbr hasn't helped much, either. Every moment I've had alone until now, he's appeared right beside me to dangle bits and pieces of his plan in front of me. And to reassure me in his strange way that he's trying to help me. Although... I'm no longer entirely sure just what he means by that. I don't know if his idea of being 'helpful' is the same as mine.
The Pious have also been seen around Valhalla lately, in higher numbers than usual: they seem to be taking advantage of our hospitality while they lay the plans for their Cenobium. I've spoken with a few of their... 'delegates,' to use that term loosely. I've learned very little even with multiple meetings with multiple angels of Greater Heaven over the last few days, which is beginning to grow frustrating.
I sit back and close my eyes for a moment, and try to remember when the last time I slept was. Honestly, it's been... months, if not years, I think. But I am a god: I don't strictly need to sleep or eat, as much as it helps me from time-to-time. As dearly as I would like to succumb to tiredness for now and just nap for even an hour... I know I don't have the time.
There are schedules to keep, and jobs to be done. I have ten minutes I can afford right now before I have to go and check on the status of the Knights, and then a meeting with the council, followed by a military strategy session...
I feel something. A tickle, a warning. I feel it even before there's a rumble through Valhalla, and then a booming noise that is shortly joined by the clamor of alarm bells ringing. I look up as my eyes widen, then stagger up to my hooves with a curse, staring up at the ceiling as the alarm bells ring louder, blurting: “Not now!”
I don't know why I'm surprised, but it sounds like Hel's attacking early. Without stopping to think, I run to the door of my private study, throwing it open and hurrying out into the hall. There's some vague relief at the fact people are already hurrying through the halls to where they're supposed to station themselves in case of attack, but no time to be glad for that. Instead, I have to focus on getting into position myself.
I hurry through the corridor, gritting my teeth, trying to get my thoughts in order. I need information so I can strategize and better allocate our defensive forces, and I need-
“Honeybutt!” crows a voice, and I trip over my own hooves and stagger to a stop to stare in disbelief at the sight of Hel. The ice puppet of the goddess is grinning gleefully, her eyes alight with malicious amusement. She's leaning against the wall in plain defiance of the hundreds of wards and anti-demon measures that should be holding back her magic and keeping not just her, but every other entity and spirit foreign to Valhalla outside the walls of the Vale.
I stare, and she winks at me before striding over and reaching up to firmly tighten my tie, almost choking me with it as she nearly purrs: “I really have to say, I like what you've done with the Pious. Keeping those nasty angels outside of the walls... I couldn't help but send some of my demons to give 'em a nice welcome.”
“You what?” I stare in horror, then snarl and shove her icy hands away, stumbling backwards. A few Knights are watching nervously, but without looking I gesture at them to quickly go to their posts: there's nothing they can do to stop Hel, and I know now she's not here to hurt me. She's just here to taunt me with what she's done. “Do you know how much-”
“Now stop it. I've really done you a favor. They're nasty.” Hel nods childishly, and I glare at her, unable to even think of a response before she reaches out and grabs my hand suddenly. I wince at how cold her icy fingers are as she lifts it curiously, studying the bracelet of claws and teeth I hadn't even realized I was still wearing as she says brightly: “Now hey! That looks like Terra's work... did you ask for it or did she give it to you?”
“I think we have more important things to discuss right now than bone trinkets, Hel.” I yank my hand away, looking up at her with disgust before I turn to walk away... and then wince as a wall of ice rips out of the ground in front of me, blocking off the entire hallway.
I begin to turn around, and too late: Hel's already created a second wall of ice just a few feet away, leaving me trapped in this small section of hallway with the person I hate more than anyone else in this entire universe. Or rather, the indestructible thing she acts through, which grins at me as it mocks: “And what's the magic word, sweetie?”
I scowl at her: I can hear soldiers already hacking away at the ice on either side of me, but I know that unless someone truly powerful shows up, no one's going to make so much as a dent in Hel's barrier. So instead of answering her, I raise my head and shout clearly: “Head to your positions and send a messenger to inform me of what's going on as soon as possible. Send a message to the war room for now, have them raise the drawbridge halfway and position archers to stave off a frontal assault!”
There's some muffled noises, and a few last sounds of something hitting the ice before the presence past the walls of ice vanish. My eyes are still locked on Hel, who nods approvingly as she hugs herself and sways on the spot. She's... calmer than I expected her to be. But still as annoying as ever, since what she chooses to focus on is: “So Terra gave it to you, huh? Huh? Huh?”
“Yes, Terra gave me the bracelet.” I say icily, then attempt to carry the conversation towards something much more important, even though I already know it's a fool's game. “Attacking Greater Heaven puts you at risk as much as it does me, perhaps more. What if they demand we go to war? Do you want Helheim and Valhalla to once more be enemies instead of following this-”
“That means Terra likes you, you big dumb oaf.” Hel informs me, and I stutter to a halt and stare at her, then groan and slap my forehead at her obvious and stupid attempt to derail the conversation. As if I'm going to fall for what's so clearly a flat-out lie.
I begin to open my mouth, and Hel absently snaps her fingers: ice forms over my maw and freezes it shut. I wince in pain and grab at the muzzling frost, while Hel only continues thoughtfully: “Now, see, I kinda didn't expect that. It's pretty cute, though, and you know, maybe if you had a little coochy-coo you'd stop being such a stick in the mud. I mean, sure, that Aria girly likes you too, but really. What's a Blessed compared to a Pride demon? Then again, you could probably have both.”
I glare at Hel horribly before cursing as I finally manage to rip the ice free from my features, feeling a shock of pain before I grumble and shake my head out, saying distastefully: “Your demons are attacking the territory I'm in charge of. I think a discussion of my romantic life is better saved for another time. Furthermore, I don't know what you're talking about. They are capable and professional employees, that's all.”
“That's the coldest thing I ever did done hear. And I'm made of ice.” Hel remarks mildly, pointing at herself and nodding seriously a few times. I sigh and shake my head, looking back and forth grouchily before the goddess continues kindly: “Now, see, I'm really doing you a favor here, making you hash this out, confront all your feelings, since... you know, normally you're about as emotional as a big dumb brick.”
“No, what you're doing is delaying me and attempting to run interference in my current working relationships. Which I do not appreciate.” I reply distastefully, and then glance up with a frown as I hear a distinct roar.
Hel looks up curiously too... and then the ice wall next to her simply explodes as something massive and metal crashes through it, then smashes the ice puppet into shards. I stare in surprise as the curtains of ice shatter away to nothing with the destruction of the puppet, and Terra skids to a halt and looks at me with clear concern in her eyes. “Lord Kvasir! Are you alright?”
“Terra, you should be marshaling the Valkyries!” I reply sharply, and Terra flushes and bows her head low before I sigh tiredly and reach up, touching my forehead before I scowl when a throat clears itself loudly to the side.
Hel's puppet has already reconstructed itself, the icy figure brushing its reformed body moodily off as her cow head tilts pointedly towards the demon. “Now that wasn't very nice at all, Terra. We're adults, trying to have an adult conversation here. Although if you want me to be entirely honest, honeycake, we were talking about you and how much you have a crushy-wushy on Mr. Seriouscorn here.”
Terra stares at Hel, and I sigh and roll my eyes, rubbing slowly at my forehead before glancing over at Terra, deciding to try and make the best of things. “Ignore her. Take me to the war room, you can help with counterstrategy and then reinforce the defenders.”
“Cheater!” Hel whines, but Terra is already moving towards me, quickly picking me up and boosting me onto her back as her spines settle and retract to let me sit comfortably. I can't help but notice that the demonic dragon is smiling even as she begins to lope down the hall... before I glare over my shoulder as Hel's puppet follows, flying eerily through the air as the goddess complains: “Using my own demons to demolish my own demons, that's just not fair. You're taking advantage of her, Kvasir. You just called her an employee, and now, what, 'cause she's all soft on you you're going to make her kill her own kinny-boo? That's just mean. That's just-”
Terra's long tail snaps back and slaps Hel across the face, sending her careening off course into a wall with a squawk. I can't help but smile despite myself, looking forwards as I steady myself by grasping a large ridge near her collar as the bracelet of bone and teeth around my wrist jangles. I feel an odd sensation as I look down at this for a moment, before Terra says firmly: “I serve you, Lord Kvasir. Whatever you demand, I'll do. Anything.”
“I... am not your master, Terra. I am an administrator. My job is to keep you in line but not rule you.” I reply quietly, and Terra glances over her shoulder at me for a moment, and there's such warmth in her eyes. I don't think it's just because Helheim is so cruel, run on ideas of ultimate rule, of masters and slaves... I think she sees me like a friend. But that's ridiculous: I can't afford to be friends with my employees, or I at least can't allow emotional connections to overwhelm logic. I have to do what's best for everyone, not just myself, not just... these people I care about even when I don't want to.
Terra is fast: she reaches the war room long before Hel can catch up to us, and the dragon bows low so I can slide off her back and enter the room first. I approach the round table with Terra following close behind me as the doors are locked and sealed: not that it will keep Hel out for long if she decides to force her way in, but I plan to make the most of the time spent without her malingering presence. “Situation?”
“Twenty-six demons, Second and Third Tier, forcing their way forwards with a Black Sheep.” reports one of the angels immediately, and I look up in surprise: a Black Sheep is a dangerous Helheim war machine, but that's barely a platoon of demons... “Archers are at the ready and we've already set mines on the road. They'll at least slow the Black Sheep down.”
“Let me make up for putting my feelings over my duties, Lord Kvasir, I can destroy the invading forces easily by myself.” Terra almost pleads, and I look over my shoulder at her before biting my lip... then I nod curtly.
“Take all ten rookie Valkyries with you and your five most promising students. Have them engage with the enemy, they need the experience and I am entrusting you with their protection.” I say calmly, then add quickly: “Disable the Black Sheep but do not destroy it. We can use that technology ourselves.”
“Oh, Kvasir, all you gotta do is ask, and I'll send you ten armored carriers just like it.” Hel's voice almost purrs, and I grimace over my shoulder as intelligence officers and other soldiers look up in shock. Terra only grits her teeth, glaring over her shoulder with much less surprise at the sight of the goddess leaning back against the warded door... and I wonder again, how powerful she must be. No, more than that... how can she move around Valhalla with such ease?
But I refuse to be knocked off guard or led on any tangents right now. Instead, I glance at Terra, ordering in a steady voice: “Go. And keep your eyes open for any surprises.”
“No surprises, I promise.” Hel says cheerfully, but I ignore her. Terra, meanwhile, looks uneasily at the goddess as she heads towards her, and the ice puppet grins widely before bowing aside and gesturing to the door... which at her command, springs open and unlocks.
That catches my attention, like it or not, but I only spare it a moment of thought for now before I force myself to return my eyes to the strategy table. I knock firmly on it to attract the attention of my generals and advisers, saying curtly: “Ignore her. I need a location report and a status update. I also need a full scan of the Vale of Valhalla and a Closure Team dispatched to the Gates.”
I feel Hel's icy hands grab my shoulders, beginning to massage them painfully: not just because of how hard she's squeezing, but because of her icy touch. All the same, I ignore her, then glare around at the table when some of my advisers only stare at what I know is probably a very strange sight, even though one of them manages to fumble for a report.
“You really need to relax, honeybutt! Come on, this is just a friendly game with some expendable expendables!” Hel says, and I pretend that I can't hear her as I grab one of the reports and look over it. I hate the fact she's peering over my shoulder, but I ignore that, too. “Oh, hey, spelling error! That's a silly one, too, who taught you angels how to write?”
“We're going to stick to defensive positions. And we're going to seal and fortify the Gates: we'll have to send a mass message out to the Pious, as well as alert any of our scouts outside the walls.” I continue with only the faintest strain in my voice, looking back and forth. “It will only be for a short period of time, while these-”
“Drills! Three weeks!” Hel says helpfully, and she lets go of my shoulders to cross her arms over my head and lean on me. It takes all of my willpower to stop myself from shoving her away and keep my eyes focused on the paper, which includes several pictures of the structural damage done to the Gates. “Oh, look, look, that hinge is totally borked.”
I slowly put down the papers, then look up and say as calmly as possible: “We're going to set up a small encampment near the Gates. Not to act as a first wave of defense, but to alert us when they come under attack again. Our defenses will be concentrated around Valhalla itself: if we know not just when the enemy is approaching but have a more detailed analysis of their forces, we can make adjustments along the Vale path to tire and weaken demons as they march on us, perhaps to the point that low-tier demons will be too weak to fight.”
“I like how you guys talk about tiers and defenses and stuff. It's kind of like fantasy football but not really fantasy. Or football.” Hel remarks casually as she leans further onto me. I can feel snow and ice beginning to spread through my mane, and I can't help but grind my teeth when she begins to absently flick and poke at my horn with one hand. “I used to play a tabletop role playing game, you know, with Vally-wally and some other nerds. I was a level nineteen psychotherapist. Plus three to saving rolls, plus ten charisma, had this incredible prescription pad of nobility that let me take an extra bonus when persuading any monster with 'government' in the type. Oh, good times.”
Everyone is only staring at her, while I've returned my eyes to the damage assessment. After a moment, I look up and order: “Send three engineers with the Closure Team. Tell them to do a closer assessment and then send a letter to me as soon as possible. I want them gone in ten minutes.”
“Sir!” One of the angels at the table salutes, then turns and hurries off. Hel clicks her tongue almost disapprovingly, but I ignore her as one of the other generals quickly lays out a map over the strategy table.
Our conversation is brief, punctuated only by short reports from the battlefield. Hel eventually gets bored and starts loitering around the strategy room, but most of the staff know to ignore her as much as possible, and there's no major interruptions.
Eventually, word comes back that the demons have been destroyed, the Black Sheep secured, and only minor injuries were suffered. It's an expected outcome, but a strange relief at the same time, although I only nod and then return my eyes to the map. Just because the battle is over doesn't mean that my business is done, after all: the injured must be tended to, I'm still waiting on a report from the engineers and the Closure Team, and I need to figure out what defenses need to remain in place while patrols comb the area nearby for any demons laying in wait.
But I'm interrupted by Hel striding over to me with a smile and leaning down beside me, before she simply snaps her fingers... and a moment later, everything is frozen in ice. The room, the doorway, the angels and advisers and military staff... and my own legs.
It's cold. It's cold and it hurts and I snarl up at her... but she only reaches out and almost tenderly cups my face with one hand. A hand that surprisingly doesn't have the biting cold to it I'm used to, in spite of how much the contact stings. She looks at me, and I'm... unsettled, because there's no maliciousness in this moment. There's no cruelty, or glee, even if she's smiling, before she leans forwards and whispers into my ear:
“Choose your friends wisely, Kvasir... and choose your secrets even more carefully. Gymbr may be less forgiving than I am.”
I go pale, staring at nothing, breathing hard as Hel's fingers slowly stroke down to my shoulder as she slides away, smiling at me and studying me, watching my reaction. I force myself to look at her, only able to shake my head weakly before she says gently: “I am not your enemy, honeybutt. Oh, sure, I know I might seem that way, but in the grand scheme of things? I want you here, in Heaven. I want Brynhild and Freya safe and sound, running things the way they are... I want us to get along, just like so. Oh, sure, I'm a little sociopathic. I don't really get the 'value of life' and all that.
“But Kvasir...” Hel leans down knowingly. “How can I have all that chaos I like without any life in the universe? How can Hell exist without Heaven? It's all about balance, sweetie. And me, I'm just the weight on the other end of the scale, the yin to your yang. I'm the monster at the end of the storybook and you're the hero at the start.”
“So you're saying that we'll meet in the middle, but only you'll survive until the end?” I ask after a moment, even as I grimace and pull against the ice restraining me... but when I shiver, it's not from the cold. It's from the fact that Hel clearly knows... everything. And I don't know how she possibly could. I don't know how this goddess can... can do all the things she can do, here in Valhalla, when she was exiled to Helheim so many years ago and left to rule over the legions of demons...
“That's often how the story works, but no, that was just a metaphor. Don't be so damn serious, Mr. Seriouscorn.” Hel reaches out and flicks the end of my horn, smiling at me almost kindly. It makes my stomach turn a little as shivers run down my spine.
The ice puppet of Hel surveys me thoughtfully for a few moments, then she finally claps her hands and nods firmly once, saying cheerfully: “Glad we had this talk! Now, if you'll excuse me, honeybutt, I need to go out and round up some more demons to send your way for fun and games.”
With that, she steps backwards into a deep, theatrical bow with a dramatic flourish of her hands, and then the ice puppet – along with all the other frost in the room – shatters into motes of blue and white that fade quickly from the air. Angels and Blessed and every other kind of entity that had been trapped under the ice all stumble, and I grimace as I look down at my now-freed legs.
My shoulders slump, my breathing falls uneven, and my

My apologies. When I was finally able to return to my study, I found that Hel had left a little personal note for me on the scroll that I have omitted from the records. It also makes me realize that I need greater security for this enchantment, and a better way to avoid it being interfered with... and I really don't want to think about what Hel might have managed to glean from these transcripts.
I don't know what Hel is really after. Is this perhaps a tactic to attempt to create conflict between myself and Gymbr? There's too much that's possible because... there's simply too much that Hel seems to know, and as idiotic as she acts, she's not stupid. Her performances are designed to irritate, to draw out emotions, and to distract: she's more similar to the chaos beasts of Ginnungagap than I like to think.
I wonder briefly if she would take that as an insult or a compliment, then sigh and shake my head quickly. It's late night now, everything here has been... managed as much as possible, and the Gates of Valhalla are firmly sealed. There has been no sign of Hel, and nor has Gymbr shown his face... it makes me paranoid. For a moment, my anxieties wash over me, and I wonder if maybe... Gymbr knows, and is lurking, waiting for me to let my guard down, and then I'll feel his claws at my throat...
I shake myself out and nervously adjust my tie, pulling the knot a little too tight against my neck. I breathe slowly in and out, my eyes flicking uncomfortably back and forth, and then curse myself for being an anxious idiot and letting Gymbr and Hel get too deep inside my head.
Then there's a knock at the door, and it startles me so badly I accidentally hammer my knee into the bottom of my desk. I groan and grab my leg for a moment, then look sourly at the closed study door as a muffled voice asks uneasily: “Lord Kvasir?”
“Coming, Terra.” I sigh tiredly, and look at the quill. It's still writing, undisturbed by my nasty little bump apart from a few awkwardly elongated letters. I grumble to myself, then shake my head and stand up, striding over to the door and opening it to lean out: I have no intent of letting anyone into my study no matter how urgent it is, after all. The fact Hel managed to get in here still fills me with this invaded, disgusted feeling.
The demonic dragon looks down at me for a moment, then she leans in a little too close and asks nervously: “Is this a bad time? I don't want to disturb you...”
I'm tempted to tell her it is just to get rid of her. But after a moment, I shake my head and slip out through the door, closing it behind me and crossing my arms as I look up at her. My duties to Valhalla come first, and I'm sure this isn't a personal call. “No, go ahead. Do you have an incident report for me?”
“Well, yes, but... that's not why I'm here, Lord Kvasir.” Terra bows her head politely, and I frown at her before she smiles at me, blushing only slightly. “I wanted to speak to you about what Hel said. I felt it was important to touch upon this matter as soon as possible.”
“I know that Hel lies and enjoys causing conflict, Terra. It's alright.” I shake my head and hold up a hand, and Terra looks surprised. “I don't believe most of what she says, and our relationship is a professional one. I'm not going to let Hel's words affect that.”
Terra looks uncomfortable for a moment, and then she reaches carefully forwards and grasps my arm. I frown at her as she raises it, and then the bracelet I'm still wearing jingles. I'm surprised to realize I'm still wearing it, actually, as I flex my fingers slowly and look at the teeth and claws on this tribal, rather barbaric ornament...
Maybe I'm a little too harsh. It's not awful, after all. It's... really the first time anyone's given me anything, and it's made in the fashion of the ornamentation Terra bedecks herself in; if it really is the thought that counts with a gift, I suppose that makes this... very important. Very worthwhile. Not just a trinket, but... well...
I feel a little embarrassed, strangely, and I don't know why as I glance up at Terra. She looks back down at me, then smiles and asks quietly: “Is it Aria?”
“Aria? My assistant?” I frown at Terra, who cocks her head curiously before I ask slowly: “What are you implying, Terra? I really don't have time for games and riddles... or at least, not the attention for it right now. It's been a long day...”
Terra sighs and shakes her head, and from the way she looks at me, I can feel her emotional reading scanning over me. I feel a little ruffled, frowning and crossing my arms as I look pointedly up at the demon: I strongly dislike any 'peeking' at my emotions or mind, by psychics or otherwise, and I've asked many demons many, many times to respect that boundary.
Then the demonic dragon leans back, and her smile becomes... is she patronizing me? I feel anger starting to rise, except then the dragon leans forwards and hugs me firmly against her, and my mouth falls dumbly open as I stiffen up instinctively, staring blankly down the hall.
“You really don't understand, do you?” She's not patronizing at all. She's affectionate and... sympathetic? Why is she looking at me like I'm some little rain-drenched kitten? And there's something else there too, in the way she's gazing at me... I don't really recognize it, I just know this is not at all how a stable, professional relationship between employee and administrator is supposed to work.
“Please let go of me. This is not... comfortable.” I grumble, and I push myself quickly backwards as far as her grip on my limb will let me move, feeling ruffled and uneasy... precisely because while almost every part of me is hating this breach of etiquette and conduct, part of me actually... enjoyed it? “Terra, get a hold of yourself. You're a protector of Valhalla and employed to train the Valkyries. I am the King of Valhalla and chief administrator of all operations inside its halls. I am willing to grant you plenty of leeway but there are certain standards that must be met and lines not crossed.”
The draconic demon looks down at me thoughtfully for a few moments, and then she reaches up a claw and offers it to me, saying with surprising eloquence: “I am coming to you not as a demon, or your employee, but as a party to your romantic interests.”
I open my mouth to scoff at the joke... then only stare when I realize she's serious. She's actually serious, and I have no idea what to say as I mouth wordlessly for a few moments, then shake my head in disbelief before I finally manage out: “This... this is completely inappropriate!”
“No, I checked. I've had plenty of time to get used to your... administrative quirks, Lord Kvasir.” Terra says a little too happily. I stare up at her, and she closes her eyes and recites: “The King of Valhalla may not marry outside of the status of gods, but may pursue romantic interests with all of those who possess high-functioning intelligence and are greater than mortal status, so long as they themselves are working in the best interests of Valhalla.
“So, as a First Tier Pride demon working for Valhalla, I may serve as your mistress and-or bedmate.” Terra bows her head to me politely, smiling almost shyly as she adds in a more-hesitant voice: “I know you like things to be... according to Valhalla's codex. I am more than happy to follow that codex, Lord Kvasir. I would be honored to serve you in a capacity as... more than commander of your forces.”
I stare at her blankly. I don't know how to respond to this. I don't really know what to do or say. My mind is working a thousand miles a minute. Romantic partner? Bedmate? Mistress? Is she offering what I think she's offering? And did she really go through all the trouble of looking up the ancient codes of law and etiquette just so she could argue that position with me?
My mouth feels dry. My knees feel wobbly. My head feels light. No, no, this... this must be some evil, sinister trick of Hel's... that's the only thing that makes sense, right? Right? This is all just some elaborate ruse in order to make me lose focus.
“I... am not... looking for a suitor right now.” I say finally, a faint blush in my cheeks, and the demonic dragon is undeterred as she smiles at me. “Your offer is... I find it very considerate but assess that... at the current point and time I do not... require that... level of. Service.”
Terra looks completely undeterred. I don't know what I can possibly say, either, because I realize there's also the very real possibility that I could offend the enormous, draconic demon, and I am suddenly all too well aware that this wouldn't end well for me.
And in that uncomfortable, dumb silence, Terra once more takes the advantage by saying politely: “If I may be so bold, Lord Kvasir... it wouldn't be proper for you to refuse. And it would be good for diplomatic relations between Heaven and Hell, wouldn't it?”
“Arguable.” I mutter, and Terra leans forwards encouragingly. Mimir's head it annoys me. I grimace and push her back a little, and then... realizing there's no real way out of this... I finally sigh and nod to her. “Very well. I will... accommodate you.”
“Kvasir.” Terra says pointedly, and I glare at her before she smiles at me in that oddly-sympathetic way. That... that nice way. It annoys me but it also gives me a funny little feeling, as I look down... and realize she's still holding my arm. Gently but firmly, she's grasping it in one claw, keeping it raised, and I flex my hand slowly as the bone bracelet jangles quietly. “Can I... ask you to do one small thing for me, then? Please be yourself. Not an administrator, but be honest with me, and I will be honest with you. I know there's more to you than... what you present.”
There's silence for a few moments, and I look down and bite my lip uneasily before I sigh and finally pull my arm back, looking at her moodily. “I am myself. I am always myself, Terra. Unfortunately, our job does go towards defining us and I do enjoy much of my work as an administrator. If you don't like that-”
“I am a several thousand year old Pride demon. That doesn't define who I am. I was also an Ironjaw Dragon for several more thousand years in life. That also doesn't define who I must be now.” Terra says gently, and I frown at her before she leans down, gazing into my eyes quietly. I grimace at her closeness and shift uncomfortably, leaning back. “Any more than the fact that I've been sent from Helheim to train Valkyries of Heaven in the art of war has to define who and what I am.
“Lord Kvasir, I think you know that you are who you are, and that's not only a combination of all the things that make you up, but it also comes from the decisions you make and the actions you take.” Terra continues, then she leans forwards and sweeps me up into a sudden, bone crushing hug, making me gargle and stare over her shoulder with a wheeze at the feeling of my ribs being strained. “You are you and I am me and we are who we are, that's that!”
I wheeze loudly, and after a moment, Terra puts me down and gazes at me warmly. I, meanwhile, am struggling to make my lungs inflate as I hammer on my chest, then shake my head quickly and glare up at her, snapping maybe a little harsher than intended: “I don't need lectures on how to find myself!”
Terra giggles. She actually giggles at me. I stare at her, mouthing wordlessly for a moment before I twitch and straighten, and then she reaches up a claw and strokes it through my mane. And I utterly hate it. She annoys me and she frustrates me and she's now lecturing me and being so frustratingly... stupidly... nice...
And that's it, isn't it? I feel my whole body tense up, before all that tension and stress is simply gone, as I realize why she annoys me so much. Why it bothers me... because I keep thinking she's giving me charity and pity. But she's not. She really does like me, she really is just... this nice, this kind, this good to me. She really does want to help, and she's not doing this over pride or superiority... it's my ego that's too sensitive. Sensitive and stupid, as a matter of fact.
I lower my head a little, blushing, feeling a faint spark of shame... and her claw stays there, against my face. I think of what I said before, how she's just an employee... but she is a friend, isn't she? I do care for her, and I care for Aria, and I want to help Excelsior, and there are others around Valhalla who... I suppose... they are all much more than employees. And having those relationships... those are good things, not bad things, right?
I feel like a child thinking of these things. I feel even more childish when I think about all my... well... childish denials of these things. But after a moment, I shake myself out and look up at Terra with a sigh, saying finally: “I'm not... precisely suitor material. I am no God of Valhalla like times past.”
“You always compare yourself to them. I know you want to be like them, Kvasir, but... you're not. You're you, and who you are has led Valhalla towards prosperity and made it so that a demon like me can stand proudly in these hallowed halls, safe and... even able to help, free of the ice.” Terra soothes, and her claw strokes gently over my cheek. I smile, in spite of not wanting to show how... how damn comforting it is. That she said... words I realize I really needed to hear.
I've always been... a little jealous of the ponies. How easily they make friends. How they network and form connections, the way they naturally unify together. How fast they develop these bonds that should take years to make. And their companionship, their refusal to believe in the 'everyone is out only for themselves' scenario... which logically, can never really work anyway. There must be some form of unity and community, there must be willingness to sacrifice a little for society to continue to function: no gear can spin without the help of a hundred other moving parts.
What I believe in is taking care of ourselves, but putting our goals first and foremost. I believe in working towards an ultimate end, and planning as much as possible for every scenario that's likely to take place. And I have come to believe in honor, thanks to my experiences with the Valkyries and Sleipnir... even if I recognize that their idea of honor is often also costly to our own aims and ends.
Yet in this moment, I feel Terra's touch, I rest against it: I've never been touched like this before, by anyone. And I understand why people would vie for it, fight for it, strive for it, as I simply bask in the contact for a moment before I pull quickly away. A faint flush suffuses my cheeks as I shake myself free from her and tent my fingers together. “I... appreciate and accept your offer as a potential-”
Terra sighs, but smiles at me all the same, with that same gentleness. “Lord Kvasir, please. Let's try and keep this informal, shall we?” She reaches up and gently musses up my mane. I glower at her a little, but manage to make myself nod after a moment, even though part of me feels... I don't know. Unsettled. I'm too used to order, law, rule, formality... “May I ask about something, though?”
I look at her moodily, then reach up and rub slowly under my chin, saying carefully: “There will still be boundaries, Terra, and I will not give you special treatment and am going to continue to treat you as an employee of Valhalla, even if-”
Terra reaches up and gently grasps me by the muzzle, firmly holding it shut. I blink dumbly, stunned into silence before she says gently: “I'm not after special treatment like that, Kvasir. You're like... to me, I look at you, and you're like the most gorgeous trophy I could ever have in my cave. I want to wax you and snuggle with you and lick you now and then, and keep you safe and out of harm's way.”
I really don't... exactly know what to say to Terra's metaphor. She clearly means well, somewhat... disconcerting as it is. But she's never exactly been the best with words. So instead I simply decide to nod and smile awkwardly, and she smiles warmly back before letting go of me and saying: “I want to treat you special, because you're special to me. I don't really expect you to treat me any different than you always have, Lord Kvasir, because how you treat me is... very much appreciated. I've worked for many warlords, self-proclaimed gods, and even Hel herself... but I never ever met someone who treated me like you do, and let me act the way I want to.”
I shrug a little, shifting and rubbing at the back of my head before I say finally: “I really don't have any interest in interfering with the activities and personal lives of my employees, so long as it doesn't interfere with their productivity or that of others. My own personal opinions and biases have no bearing on the situation.”
Terra gazes at me as if I've said something wonderful and romantic, which makes me lean back a little awkwardly. “And see? That's why you're so great! Because you have the power to enforce those rules, even make up moral standards... but you let people be people, you strive for equality instead of silly notions of good and evil, right and wrong, correct and not, and... I really, really admire that.”
She's smiling at me again, looking down at me with those big baby-blue eyes. Her metallic scales sparkle a little, like... metal. Like pretty metal. I have a fleeting moment where I think that maybe Terra isn't the worst person with words after all, and then I shake my head before saying finally: “I need to return to my work now.”
The demonic dragon looks at me pointedly, clearing her throat a little, and I sigh and lower my head for a moment before saying finally: “Very well. Why don't you... head to my quarters, Terra, and I'll meet you there to discuss-”
Terra clears her throat louder, and I glower a little at her before she smiles and leans down, kissing my lips chastely for a moment. My mind simply blanks out, and the dragon says gently: “I'm a mistress, not a concubine or a prostitute, Lord Kvasir. What goes on between us isn't about business, but about pleasure. So when you come to your room tonight, I'll ask you to keep your business out of mind, and just let me lead, okay?”
The demon turns and leaves, and I stare dumbly after her. Eventually, my fingers find their way slowly up to touch my lips, before I lick them on reflex and... is that a moment of lightheadedness that passes over me? Oh, Mimir's head. This is too strange. This is all too much for me to deal with at once.
I turn and awkwardly shove my way back into the study, heading quickly over to the quill and wheezing a little as I look down at the paper. My eyes read several of the lines over again, and it's amazing how... even now it's hard to process that yes. Yes, this all just happened. Yes, I'm... I don't even know what I am. I mean, what's going on. I mean... is this smart? Is this a good idea? Could she have a hidden agenda? Is this a joke of Hel's? Will... Gymbr try to hurt her...
I swallow at these thoughts, then take a slow breath and reach up to carefully adjust my tie, closing my eyes and fortifying myself. Then I look down at the scroll and the enchantment, and decide that... no. This is good. Strangely, it's Hel's words that come back to me, about choosing my friends wisely...
That's better advice than I thought it was, Hel's words or not.